


Let the Games Begin

by kenshincha



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 08:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13119810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenshincha/pseuds/kenshincha
Summary: When King Anthony changes the rules that one does not need to be of noble blood to be a knight, Steve and Bucky travel to participate in the first open tournament.





	Let the Games Begin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catZY](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catZY/gifts).



> This ended a little sooner than I originally planned, but the holidays have caught up with me. Still, I hope you enjoy, catZY!

The arena showed no signs of the activities of the past week. The evidence of jousting, duels and feats of skill were raked away by the grounds crew the evening before. All of the nobles stood in a line with their polished ceremonial plate armor, which reflected the glare of the midmorning sun straight into the king's eyes. It was doing nothing for King Anthony's headache.

Even up in the royal box, Tony could feel the tension in the air. The seats around the arena were only half full, a poor attendance that had been dwindling each year. It was a matter that had been pressed upon him by his advisors. The spectacle of the tournaments should be bringing people in droves, not only from the city but from neighboring lands. This was the only opportunity each year that a nobleman may elevate himself to the coveted position of a Knight of Iron. But for the past three years, Tony had rejected the participants, regardless of their skills in the arena or their past achievements on the battlefield.

Even his chief advisor Lady Pepper and his head knight Sir Rhodes were beginning to pressure him. A tournament with no winners was not worth watching, and the noble houses were beginning to feel slighted.

Tony had told them he would make a change, but he was sure this wasn't the change they were expecting.

Tony stood, and waited for the trumpet fanfare to end before stepping forward from his plush throne. The crowd was silent as he looked down at the men standing before him. "You all have fought valiantly, and shown great skill on the field of battle," he started, feeling the anticipation like the string of a bow ready to be released. "However, there is more to being a knight than the ability to swing a sword-"

He barely completed his sentence before the crowd, as depleted as it was, interrupted in a loud ruckus. The participants were also yelling up at the box.

Tony silenced them all with a sharp gesture of his hand. He could feel Pepper and Rhodey glaring daggers at the back of his head. "I realize this is not the outcome that you were all wishing for, but each of these men, while impressive on the field, do not measure to the expectations that I have held for ten years."

The noblemen looked as if they wanted to protest, but Rhodey stepped behind Tony's shoulder, silencing them with a glare. Tony was sure he was going to get an earful later, but he knew he would have his support no matter what.

"Therefore, I have decided that changes will be made for next years tournament. Today, I announce that I am revoking the decree that knights may only be of noble blood. Next year, any able-bodied man may participate in the tournament."

\-------------------

Bucky was already regretting doing this. There were hundreds of people in front and behind them, all heading towards the Capital city. "We'll be sleeping in the street tonight."

Steve glanced behind him, smirking. The bastard. "How is that different than sleeping in the woods?"

"The ground is softer. And not covered in filth."

Steve shrugged, the shield on his back shifting. "Perhaps we can bribe a stablehand to sleep with the horses."

Bucky raised his eyebrow. "As long as you get the back end."

"Deal," Steve said with a smile.

Bucky rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure how Steve had talked him into this. Well, he did, but he wasn't happy about it. Steve was always the one who wanted to do good. Even when Steve was a skinny stick, he fancied himself a knight. He saved cats from kicking kids and defending the bar maids from drunk bullies. Maybe it was Steve's pure will that turned him into the righteous giant he was today.

As soon as King Anthony's announcement had reached their town, a light had been ignited in Steve's eyes. He spent the rest of the week telling Bucky why they needed to go, all of the good they could do, all of the adventures.

Bucky hadn't bothered to protest, knowing it would be useless.

The training for the next year had been intense. Steve wasn't willing to stop until he collapsed. Not to be outdone, Bucky met him head-on every time.

Steve could always do whatever he set his mind to, but Bucky was worried if they'd even be allowed to enter the preliminaries. The king said he was loosening the requirements, but these were elite men. Those noblemen had nothing to worry about but training for these tournaments. Steve and Bucky had farms to help tend, and cattle to move. They were as worried about their next meal as finding shelter to sleep.

Steve dreamed of honor and protecting those who cannot fight for themselves. Bucky dreaded the thought of ceremonies and politics. Knights could be more often found drinking in their big halls than helping feed the hungry.

For all his doubts, Bucky knew he was going to sign up. He would follow Steve to the end of the line.

The long parade of people seemed to be slowing down. With a hill in front of them, it was difficult to see why. "I hope this isn't the line to get into the city," Bucky commented.

For the first time, Steve started to look worried. "Do you think they have a limit on how many can can take in the preliminaries?"

Bucky shook his head. He didn't know.

The slow going made Bucky restless, and the slow climb up the hill was making his already aching feet worse.

They finally chested the hill. They stopped.

The city sat on a large raise in the rolling hills. Tall walls could not contain the buildings, which overflowed all round it like moss growing from the base of a tree. The castle jutted out of the middle, lean and powerful.

Bucky had been to cities before, but he had never seen anything like this.

Steve recovered first, jostling Bucky's arm and restarting their tread to the Capital.

The rest of the trip seemed quick. The site of the city renewing everyone's energies to arrive at their destination. Like the waves on a cliff face, their informal caravan disbanded when they reached the edge of the village that surrounded the city.

By the time they had reached the main gate, Bucky's neck started to hurt from looking up at the castle. The main spire was a sword, pointing to the heavens, and yet rather than being threatening, a sense of protection came over him.

He suddenly collided with a body, barely managing to catch himself before falling on the ground. The other wasn't so lucky, making a pained noise when Bucky stumbled over his thigh.

Bucky looked down to find a young man, almost a boy, surrounded by the scattered pile of books. He looked up at Bucky wide-eyed. "Oh god! I'm sorry! I didn't— I wasn't—"

Steve stepped over with a smile, and started to pick up books. "No harm done."

The boy scrambled to pick up his books. "I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going."

"It's my fault," Bucky admitted, offering a head to help the boy up. "It's amazing anyone can get around here without looking up at the castle."

"Oh," the boy said, taking Bucky's hand and stumbling up like a newborn colt. Bucky was amazed the kid managed to keep a whole of all his books. "You've just arrived?"

"Yes. We've never been to the Capital," Steve said, straightening up. "We're here for the tournament."

The boy grinned. "I haven't seen the city so busy in a long time. It feels like the whole kingdom is here for the tournament. Make sure you get to the arena as the sun rises or you'll never get a good seat. One time my friend Ned and I had to climb onto the roof of the nearby inn to watch. I fell and broke my arm but it was worth it!" The boy reached out his free hand to take the books Steve held.

Steve smiled a little sheepishly. "We're actually here to participate."

The boy's grin widened. "Oh. Wow. I wish I could do that. My aunt would kill me if I tried though."

Bucky had a feeling the kid would end up killing himself first. "Do you know where the registration is?"

"Yes! It's—" The boy moved his arm to point, nearly dropping all his books. He smiled sheepishly. "Maybe I should just show you. It's on my way anyway."

Steve smiled. "Please. Do you need help with your books?"

"Naw, I got it," the boy said as he turned, nearly running into someone else but managed to swerve out of the way. He headed down the main street. "I'm Peter. I've always lived here."

+++

The preliminaries were in three parts. Melee, jousting, and archery. Steve was strong in melee, and Bucky was strong in archery. It was the jousting that had had him worried. They'd done some fair share of training, but they'd only had a plow horse to practice on.

They both did very well though. Many of their fellow commoners had done little training, but Bucky, Steve and a few others were admitted to the tournament.

Steve had been stunned. For all his confidence, he'd never actually thought he'd get the chance. Bucky wanted to laugh at him, but he was too excited himself.

There would be a week of rest and training before the tournament proper. They were given rooms to sleep in that felt like the peak of luxury to him and Steve, though they were probably plain to the nobles.

The few nobles participating kept to themselves, not wanting to mingle with the commoners. Bucky was just fine with that. They could keep to themselves.

Every day he and Steve would train with each other, other participants, as well as some Knights who enjoyed testing the new stock and giving advice.

The stories of Sir Thor did not do the man justice. He was a big man with an even bigger voice. He was a nobleman from the Asgard line who had failed the first tournament he'd participated in. It had been a huge upset. Thor himself was furious. He'd publicly denounced the tournament and the king himself. It had so enraged his father, he had been banished from the Asgard lands. Thor had disappeared for two years until he finally returned to the tournament again. He had been a changed man, his mighty ego deflated. He'd tried again, and won the right of knighthood. He had been the last knight accepted.

Now, he was truly a knight through and through. And it hit as hard as a bull.

"Ah, that is unfortunate, my friend," Thor said, picking up the guard he had knocked off Bucky's arm in their sparing. "It seems the buckle has snapped."

Bucky sighed. He couldn't afford a new buckle. Especially not in the city. "I'll have to lengthen the strap to tie it instead."

Thor smiled brightly. "Nonsense. Take it to the smithy." He held out a hand to help Bucky up. His ease of strength reminded him of Steve.

Bucky took the guard when Thor offered it. "I can't pay for buckle fit for a peasant let alone a king."

"Ah, but you are not a peasant, are you?"

"I'm not a knight either," Bucky pointed out.

Thor smirked. "Not yet anyway. Take it to the smithy. You may not be a nobleman, but you are a knight in training. You are equal in the eyes of the king." Thor glanced back at said noblemen and murmured, "Though you may wish to keep it quiet. Their egos are easily bruised."

Bucky couldn't keep the smile off his face and he nodded in agreeance.

The blacksmith was set apart from the castle proper. It was grey and robust, a dark smoke constantly billowing out of a long large chimney.

It was dark and hot and humid inside. If Bucky hadn't already been covered in sweat before, he would be now. There was a loud rhythmic clanging filling the space and Bucky followed it deeper in.

Next to the red glow of the forge was a man in a white sleeveless tunic banging a large hammer against a glowing piece of metal.

Bucky waited for the man to pause before calling out. "You're the blacksmith."

The man turned, surprised. He was handsome. Even covered in grease and soot, he was far more handsome than the blacksmiths Bucky was accustomed to. His facial hair was cut in a strange but flattering way.

The man looked Bucky up and down, and smirked. "Sure." He tossed the hot metal in a barrel of water, causing steam to erupt out. He walked up to Bucky, a confident swagger in his step. "What can I do you for?"

Bucky was sure he could do a lot for him, but he reigned in his smirk. "I need a buckle replaced," he said, offering the guard.

The smith removed his gloves and took it. His hands were rough, strong and covered in dirt, but his nails were taken care of. Bucky looked up, self conscious, but the smith was focused on the armor.

"Basic repair," he said, leaving the main room to a smaller better lit room full of tools and baskets of already-made items. The smith dug through until he found a fitting buckle, and brought it to a small repair table.

"I can do that," Bucky offered. He felt a little foolish just standing there.

"Nope," the smith said, already getting to work. "So, what brings you to the city?"

Bucky frowned. Was he really that obvious? "The tournament," he said, challenging.

The smith looked up, eyes bright. "Really?" he asked, genuinely delighted. "So m— So the kings declaration worked?"

Bucky felt himself easing a bit. "Yeah. My shield brother and I came from Brookland."

"That's quite the trek! I'm glad to hear the news reached that far."

"It spread very fast. Mere days."

The smith finished fastening the buckle. "You must be quite a fighter to have reached the tournament," he commented as he suddenly ripped the other buckle off the brace.

Bucky didn't even have a chance to protest before the smith began adding new buckle. "Uh, yeah. I'd like to think so."

Once he was done, the smith immediately grabbed for the guard still on Bucky's arm. Bucky pulled back with a raised eyebrow which the smith seemed to find amusing. "Given the state of these buckles, these must need changing too." He stood and ran his finger along Bucky's leather chest plate with a leer. "This too, I'm sure."

Bucky wanted to argue but the smith was right. If he stomped off in a prideful huff, he'd just be back again the next day. Especially given how hard Thor liked to hit. He sighed.

The smith grinned, knowing he won, and deftly removed the arm guard and then the chest plate. Bucky knew he didn't imagine the caress the back of the smith's fingers gave his abs. The grease stain left was any proof he needed.

Bucky leaned against the bench and watched him work. His fingers were dexterous and sure. The man obviously knew how to work with his hands.

"What brings you to the tournament?" the smith asked.

"My shield brother, Steve. He's always wanted to be a knight."

The smith glanced over. "What about you?"

Bucky frowned, trying best to think of an answer. "I've always just wanted a place in the world. Knighthood seemed too complicated for me. I don't think I have the patience."

The smith hummed.

"Having some stuffy king order you around."

The smith looked like he wanted to burst out laughing. Maybe he didn't like the king either. "You don't like to take orders?"

"Not from a stuffy king," Bucky muttered.

The smith paused. "The king is not well liked in the outer kingdom?"

Bucky tilted his head. "No, he is well loved. He is a fair king. The women love to speak of how handsome he is."

The smith snorted. He looked over at Bucky. "What do you think?"

Bucky shook his head. "I haven't seen him."

The smith stood. "Done," he said reluctantly. He stepped close and began to put his chest plate back on.

He looked the smith up and down. "I doubt he could be as handsome as you."

He laughed. "Under all this grease, I really am quite pretty, I'll have you know."

Bucky smirked. "I don't doubt it."

The smith moved to the arm guards, first once and then the other. He leaned in and gave Bucky's cheek a kiss. "For good luck. Though I doubt you'll need it."

Bucky fought a grin. "Every bit helps."

+++

Bucky stood next to Steve in the arena in their leather tournament armor. Steve showed no sign of nerves. Bucky was starting to feel restless. This tournament would be grueling and relentless. But they were ready.

The trumpets sounded, and the participants straightened. The stands in the arena were packed, and they all cheered for the appearance of their king.

King Anthony appeared wearing a familiar smirk in his face.

Bucky's jaw dropped as he watched the blacksmith in bright red and golden robes with an ornate crown wave to the crowd.

When the king looked down and saw Bucky, he winked. Bucky could feel Steve glance at him, but he refused to glance back, fighting the flutter in his chest.

King Anthony raised his hand to silence the crowd. With a flourish he called out, "Let the games begin!"


End file.
